


Pale and Plum - A (Mostly) Petrashe Drabble Collection

by Soak



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dense Ashe Duran, Drabble Collection, F/M, Feelings Realization, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Minor Dorothea Arnault/Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Taverns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25871611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soak/pseuds/Soak
Summary: Just a dropbox for whatever Petra/Ashe meanderings I write. There will likely be some other pairings dropping in as well, and I'll update tags for them. No proofreading, so please forgive occasional typos and errors.Rated T for now, will update in the event a new piece necessitates it.1) Dare-driu2) A Blow To The Head3) Molten4) Fódlan Treats5) Gautier Lines6) A Particular Moment7) Mid-morning
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Petra Macneary
Comments: 18
Kudos: 37





	1. Dare-driu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah i think petra is a touch ooc, but she's always so damn calm in the game and im like... there has to be more?? nobody is immune to nerves

Petra shifted the mug around in her hands, glancing between the frothy beverage within and across the tavern. Her feet tapped along the floor. She was painfully aware of her breathing, to the point of having to remind herself to inhale and exhale.

"Just go talk to him, dear. Nothing risked, nothing gained."

She looked over, a smidge too quickly, her hair whirling behind her. Three drinks in and she was getting a little sloppy—it was worrying how she could tell but do nothing about it. This had been her plan from the start and yet… the liquid courage wasn't much courage to begin with.

Dorothea rolled her eyes. Her hair was unkempt, falling along the sides of her face. They were all a little ways into their cups—though it made sense. Given their victory at Derdriu, a little celebration was definitely in order.

"Petra, relax. You're an incredible woman and anybody should be thrilled to be with you." The songstress huffed. "I certainly would be, at any rate."

It was the princess' turn to roll her eyes, although with a blush along her cheeks. She had made her preferences clear long ago, but it couldn't stop a tipsy Dorothea from flirting with her from time to time. "You are having other women to be chasing, yes? Where is the blonde one—" she began to mimic her voice"—with the strong arms and nice legs you are-"

"Shush!" A hand clasped over Petra's lips. "You… you never know if she or her friends are listening. A bit of discretion, please."

Petra ducked away, laughing. "It is not having fairness to be pestering me when you are also nervous." She drank again. An idea sparked in her brain, one that felt like the final push she needed. "Let us be making a deal; I will go to Ashe if you are going to Ingrid."

Dorothea reeled away, an open-mouthed look of shock on her face. "Petra!"

"What? You have had as much time to be working on this as I am; this will be a good way to be making us both be deciding."

"Yes, well…" she paused, working it over in her brain. Eventually, the songstress relented with a sigh. "Despite turning me down way back when, I suppose she's been… warmer than usual, lately."

Petra latched on, nodding fervently. "Yes! From the stories you have been telling, I am thinking she has had interest since we have been reunited."

"Are you sure? Don't say it just for my sake."

She fixed her friend with an encouraging look. "I am believing it. If she is not shying away from your nice words any more, I am thinking that is a good sign. Though maybe you should be having… uh, more subtleness than your first try."

Dorothea mulled it over as she sipped from her goblet, then downed the rest of it. "Oh, fine." She threw her hands up in the air, eyes sparkling. "No time like the present, I suppose."

"N- now?" Petra flicked her eyes again between the ashen-haired boy and her drink. "I am needing to finish this first. Let- let us be talking more-"

"Petra." Dorothea rose from the table, shaking her head. "Up you go."

"But he is sitting with Sylvain and Felix and-"

"Enough, darling." She took her hand and pulled her up. "You fight much scarier people for a living. Now go talk to him."

Petra looked down at herself, brushing down the creases in her outfit, anxiously toying with her hair. Dorothea was right. There was no reason to be afraid, theoretically. It'd save her weeks and months of useless pining to just get it over with now. So then why did the thought make her blood run cold?

She breathed deeply. A future queen should be able to face any difficulty, so this would be a practice of sorts—somehow. It was for Brigid's sake, in some convoluted logic. That felt better. "Fine, I can be doing this." Looking over, she found Dorothea already gone, winding across the tavern to where Ingrid and Mercedes sat.

Turning on her heel, she made a beeline for Ashe. Charge straight ahead, act before you can overthink it. It was just him at the table she cared about, not Felix or Sylvain or Shamir or Flayn. Of course she would have more onlookers.

"Can you show me how to play this wondrous game?" the pint-sized cleric asked as Petra grew nearer. She glanced in awe at the small stack of coins on the table.

"It's simple, Flayn." Shamir rolled her neck. "You just have to bounce the coins into the cup, and it can't bounce twice. If you do, choose someone else to take a drink. If you don't, you take one."

"That's all? I don't understand why this is so popular then."

"If Seteth allowed you to drink ale, maybe you'd understand."

Petra arrived at the head of the table, looking over the party. Her heart started to rise in her throat.

Ashe, of course, noticed her first. His cheeks had an adorable tint to them, his freckles blending in with the tipsy flush. "Petra! Would you like to play with us?"

"Hey there, Princess! There's a spot by me." Sylvain patted the bench beside him. The rest looked over to her, all with varying nods and smiles.

"I will not be needing one." Spirits, that came out way too quick and forceful. "I am meaning, sorry, no."

"Is something wrong?" Ashe asked, eyebrows raised. That genuine compassion of his was going to kill her someday.

"Ah, no…" Petra took a quick breath, her hands fidgeting together. All gazes were on her. Now or never—for Brigid, she reminded herself. "There is… something I am wanted to talk to you about, Ashe. In… private."

Almost every face lit up. Spirits smite her, they were all too clever. Sylvain leaned back and whistled. Felix managed a grin. Shamir's eyes widened slightly, shooting knowing glances at the both of them. Flayn let out an excited gasp, her face glowing like the sun.

"Okay?" Ashe shrugged, standing up. Did he not understand? He looked back to his company. "Start without me then, I'll be back soon."

"I won't count on it," Shamir responded with a chuckle. Flayn giggled.

"Yeah, take your time, buddy," Sylvain added with a wink.

Ashe cocked his head as he moved away, laughing nervously. "All right?" He turned to Petra. "Ready when you are."

She turned away, anxious to leave and get off this roller coaster of embarrassment. Away from his gaze, she let her shocked expression come out freely, beyond confused. Flayn giggled again. Without a word, she set off towards the door.

The cool sea breeze of Derdriu felt wonderful on her flaming skin. She took a moment outside the tavern to collect herself, staring up at the stars.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Anxiety was creeping into his tone. Ashe must've begun to feel the tension, then.

Petra let out a long exhale and massaged her temples. Just out with it. "You are knowing… that you are important to me, yes?" As she finished, she forced her gaze over to him.

Another wonderful smile. He leaned against his shoulder on the stone wall. "Of course, Petra. You matter a great deal to me too."

Excitement welled up in her chest. This was all it took? Why had she been so nervous in the first place?

Ashe tilted his head, his hair sliding messily across his face. "Everyone does. We're all in this together, right?"

Now chills, gripping at her stomach. She was sure she had been pointedly clear. "Yes, that is… that is having truth. But I am meaning… you are more important than the others." The next words had to be wrought out. "I have much care for you. In particular."

He smiled warmly again. "That makes sense, we are the only wyvern riders-"

A loud sigh. An unbearable frustration rose in her chest. "Ashe." She leaned on the wall beside him, hoping the closeness would help paint the _correct_ picture. "I am having many feelings for you. Feelings I am hoping you have as well."

Finally, some sort of sheepishness formed on his face. "I-… what do you mean?"

It was a struggle not to turn and plant her face in the masonry. For Brigid. She really wasn't sure what that meant any more, but she repeated the mantra in her brain. For Brigid. For Brigid, for Brigid, for Brigid.

"I… I am not having more words to explain." She shuffled closer, using one hand to smooth out his hair, tucking his bangs behind his ear. "You are having three seconds to understand."

"What?" He didn't shy away, though, his eyes flashing between her and her palm that remained on his cheek.

One.

"I don't-"

Two.

"Oh."

Three.

Petra leaned in, closing her eyes, hoping he'd meet her. He did.

She felt her soul exhale loudly, a deep gasp that made her legs tremble. His lips were soft, working carefully along hers. His hands, calloused and rough, slowly met her shoulders. She was a bit more forceful, turning about and trapping him against the wall.

She snaked her hands around his back, pulling him in close. Petra still felt the need to make her intentions abundantly clear. She pressed her face in closer, kicking up the intensity as she worked their tongues together. If it weren't for the kind breeze, she'd be burning up worse than Brigid summer.

It felt like hours. As much as she wanted to keep going, she broke away, still holding him near. "Are you… are you understanding now?"

His voice came out low, exasperated and disheveled. "Yeah… s- sorry it took me-."

She leaned in close, her nose touching his, their lips skimming each others. His beleaguered breath ran hot down her neck. "You can be apologizing without words."

Petra kissed him again.

Over the blood roaring her ears, she couldn't hear the pair of strangled gasps coming from the down the street, from the equally breathless pair rounding an alley corner.


	2. A Blow To The Head

The spear haft came down hard with a crack. Ashe bowled over, tumbling to the stone floor, his axe flying. Every head in the training ground turned. Silence fell.

"Oh goddess, I'm so sorry!" Ingrid's long braid flew behind her as she charged over. She knelt on the ground beside her classmate. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah?" Ashe shook his head. He rubbed the pulsating, angry spot on his scalp. "S- sorry, I never saw that coming... don't worry, it's not your fault."

Ingrid sighed. "No, I should've restrained myself when I saw the opening. What good are we on missions if we're too banged up from training?"

Ashe shrugged, wearily getting up. His joints were screaming for a break, having been at this for over an hour now. Defending against a spear's superior range and speed was difficult with his axe, and this wasn't the first time his body had paid the price. "It- it's okay, really. If you hesitate now, you might do the same when it matters."

"Maybe." The rest of their peers returned to their low murmurs, satisfied nobody was hurt.

Bells tolled in the distance. The dining hall would be open with supper now, which always ended their sessions. Ingrid's eyes flicked to the open rooftop, noting the declining sun.

Despite the soreness and exhaustion, Ashe laughed. "You know what their serving tonight, don't you? Do you have the whole week memorized?"

"Hey!" Ingrid's grip tightened on her spear. "It's... it's Derdriu pheasant, okay? They only make it once a month."

She didn't deny his theory. Ashe stretched, turning his body about. "Well, go on then. Don't wait for me."

"You're staying?"

"I just need a moment. Maybe the sauna will help."

Her face grew worried, but she didn't press him. "Okay then. Don't push yourself, all right?"

Ashe nodded. "I'll be fine. Maybe I'll see you there."

She undid the straps on her training gear, slipping out of it, stashing it away. "Maybe. If I get stuck between Felix and Sylvain though, I won't blame you for sitting somewhere else."

"They're not that bad."

Ingrid rolled her eyes and grinned. "They really are." She double checked her things, then nodded to herself. "All right, I'm off then. If I don't see you at dinner, then get some rest, Ashe. We leave for the Sreng in a few days."

He turned away as she did. "I will, don't worry!" He stumbled towards one of the shaded benches, stiff and blocky in his padding. The wooden axe pulled heavy on his arms. Just like always, sparring with his best friend really put him through the ringer.

Ashe half-sat, half-fell into his seat. The cool masonry on his back felt nice, drawing the stifling heat out of his body. For a moment he let his body zone out, limbs hanging limp, eyes staring out into the distance.

Not many people were left, so late in the evening. Most people got their training in before or directly after morning lectures, to leave their afternoons open for studying or assigned tasks. He didn't know everyone at the academy, but a pair of faces caught his attention.

Caspar, right? The short, fiery boy that had spent the first few weeks challenging everyone who entered the grounds. He kept going at Felix until the Fraldarius boy had to turn him down. Apparently that was some sort of rarity.

He had been nice, if not overbearing whenever they interacted around the monastery. Clearly they had different opinions, but Ashe could deal with that, as his positivity was infectious. He was constantly pumping up other people in the training grounds, egging them on to do better, being a sparring partner for whoever wanted one.

The other he was less familiar with. Petra, her dark hairstyle as foreign as the markings on her face. A royal of some sort, too. That made him nervous. A noble's second son he could deal with—but around future queens and kings, he felt woefully out of place.

Still, he watched them both, noting that her prowess with the axe was startling. Both were wielding them, but her movements were more fluid, graceful with a weapon so bulky. Or, rather, she moved that way, and her axe merely fell in line.

Caspar huffed and battled, but it looked like he was fighting water, bending and winding around every strike. Her axe hardly needed to parry a single blow, instead dooming him to whiffs with her light footwork. It was a spectacle to see, inspiring in a way he could only hope to achieve.

She could probably give Felix a run for his money. The axe would only be a hindrance against a sword, but watching her, he was tempted to bet on her anyway.

Dipping past a chop, Petra checked Caspar with her shoulder. As he stumbled for balance, she hooked a foot out, finding his ankle and yanking it away. The boy yelped and fell to the ground.

"That is being three!" she called out. "I am thinking I won, Caspar."

"Yeah, yeah... just help me up."

"Oh!" Petra stuck a hand out, pulling him upright.

"But yeah, that was great! I don't know why the professor has moved you over to axes, but she clearly knows something. You gotta show me how you do some of those moves." The blue-haired boy looked past her. "Oh, hey Ashe! You didn't see my butt get kicked, did you?"

Ashe shook himself, remembering that he was a present part of the moment. He had relaxed a bit too much, it seemed. His overworked muscles were getting sorer by the minute. "Huh? What was that?"

Petra turned, noting him with a flash in her eyes. "Oh, hello! I am not thinking we have met before." She let her axe rest on her shoulder as she walked over. "Your name is Ashe?"

He scrambled, trying to sit up straight, to present himself better. "Oh- ah, yes! Yes, that is me, my name is Ashe." He put one hand over his chest and bowed. "Pleased to meet you, uh- Your Highness."

Petra's face scrunched up as she came to a stop before him. Her body shifted anxiously to one foot, then the other. Immediately, he felt like he did something wrong.

Casper caught up, sucking in a breath through his teeth. "Jeez, why are you acting so weird?"

"M-me?" Ashe asked, daring to raise back up.

"Uh, yeah."

"Do not be worrying, Ashe." Petra sighed. "Please, your politeness is not needed. Call me Petra. The other names of Fódlan are always making me uncomfortable."

"Oh? Oh!" Ashe bowed again. "I- I am so sorry Your H- ah, Petra!"

"Dude."

"Stop, please." Petra shook her head. "I am not wanting my classmates to feel nervous around me."

Ashe froze, mouth open, unsure what to say. Part of him revolted at being so casual around people of her station.

"He got hit on the head pretty hard earlier," Caspar added. "You feeling okay, buddy? You're really acting different than normal."

"Oh, I am remembering!" Recognition sparkled in her eyes, her braids bobbing with a nod. "The blonde girl, yes? Her striking was impressing me."

"Y- yeah, Ingrid," Ashe uttered. He tried to control his breathing and quell his nerves. "She... she's really good. Hanneman wants me to start using an axe instead of a bow, so it's hard to keep up. I'm not used to being so up close and personal."

"Don't worry, it's a difficult weapon to get to grips with," Caspar said. He flexed an arm. "You just gotta keep practicing!"

Petra looked between them both. "Yes, I am new to it as well. But, I am thinking you should be working on your movements. I was having an observation of you and Ingrid when we were breaking—you would not have been wounded with a correct stance."

Ashe let his expression ease, looking up at her curiously. "What- what do you mean?"

She set her legs apart, patting a hand on her thigh. "You are too forward, like this. You are needing to be more in the center. Watch." She eased—somehow. Ashe couldn't quite place it, but her whole stature loosened, almost floating over the tiles. "In this standing, I can be dodging with easiness. It is very useful against Caspar."

"What? Hey!"

"Do not be taking offense! I was having a joke." She laughed, her face lighting up like the afternoon beams that filtered in above. Ashe missed a breath or two. Her smile shifted over to him. He missed another.

"Hey, Ashe!" Caspar broke in, shattering his hypnosis. His eyes darted away. "You and Ingrid should train with us tomorrow! Maybe Petra can show us how she does it."

"Are you sure?" He leaned against the stone wall, trying to cool down again.

"Yeah, it'd be fun! I never get to hang out with students from the other houses."

"I am agreeing," Petra added with a nod. "You should be joining us in training. We are both new with the axe—it will be pleasing to learn together."

"Ah, well... okay, sure, why not?" Ashe gripped the bench and helped himself upright. Oh, goddess, did his body ache. "T- tomorrow, though. I don't think I could take any more practice today."

She chuckled. "I am having awareness." Looking over, she shrugged to Caspar. "Should we be leaving soon? I am remembering we have gardening tasks."

"Oh, shoot!" Caspar's head swung about, finding the sun's position. "Right! And I still have all that reading to do!" His face went pale. He went for his bags, slinging them over his shoulder, scuttling about. "And we still need to eat! Ugh, goddess, what happened?"

Ashe grinned. "Well, don't let me stop you, then. I'll see you both at the same time tomorrow then?"

"Count on it!" Caspar shouted, making a beeline for the door. "See ya, Ashe!"

Petra sighed. "He is... full in hand." Still, she turned, shooting a look at Ashe over shoulder. "Goodbye, Ashe! I am having eagerness to see you again."

It felt like the wind had been driven out of his lungs. "Oh, ah... y- you too, Petra."

Another warm smile, and then she left.

Ashe fell back down onto the bench, as if another blow had struck him on the head.


	3. Molten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl this started as "what if forceful brigidese gets Ashe hot and bothered" but then became more sweet because it just felt too off-tune. There was a whole scene of "you should get up, Ashe" "uh lol no, this is awkward" that I cut out.
> 
> maybe the next one will explore that idk

Petra soared over the next set of hills, and catching a glint of his armor on the ground below, her heart caught in her throat. She yanked on the reins, her wyvern obeying and driving her towards the earth.

"Ashe! Ashe, are you well?"

Her knight shifted, his plates clattering against the small rocks and pebbles. "Huh? W- what?"

She hopped out of saddle, dashing over as quickly as she could. Loose stone tumbled around her, displacing even her own light steps. Struggling, she eventually made it to him, cradling his head.

"Are you wounded? I was seeing the arrows-"

"R- right. Yeah, I- ah, dammit. One got through, I think." He kept his eyes up on her. "S- stupid Roland. Dumb idiot wyvern just dumped me off."

Petra was already undoing his armor, uncinching the straps and pulling away the padding beneath. He sucked in a breath through his teeth—there, she could see what remained of an arrow shaft. Gentler this time, she lifted up the padding and inspected the wound. Petra let his head rest in her lap as she worked.

Not terrible; perhaps lucky, even. The arrow had just clipped the skin along his side, leaving a grizzly slice instead of a puncture. She reached down and pulled at the broken shaft.

Ashe hissed in pain. Okay, well, some part of it was still stuck in him. Grabbing his shoulders, Petra pulled him higher up.

"Be strong, _a stór."_

"Wha-"

She pushed the arrow the rest of the way though. Ashe slammed his eyes shut, gasping through the ordeal. It was better than pulling it out, both of them knew. After a precarious moment or two, Petra tossed the offending bit away.

"Is that all?" she asked in a hurry. Her hands pulled away any remaining armor on his torso and arms, leaving him bare-chested in the dusk light. Bruised and battered, but aside from the wound on his side, Petra couldn't see anything.

"I... I think so? Well, getting dropped off an angry wyvern wasn't nice but- but I can move everything." He wiggled his feet and his fingers to illustrate, still wincing through the aftershocks of pain.

Petra let loose a long sigh, slumping against his back. As relief for her knight-turned-lover melted away her fear, hot fury took over.

"Good. Now, if you are ever doing this again, I will be having more anger than all the wyverns in Fódlan. You will be wishing to only be dropped on rocks-"

"Wait what? What did I-"

"Be silent." Petra leaned back, digging through a pouch on her hip. "I cannot be giving bandages while you are being a box of chatter."

Ashe tensed. His tone was dry and sarcastic in a way he rarely spoke to her, "It's _chatterbox-"_

"Quiet!" she hissed. Her hands began working on his stomach, cleaning out the wound and applying a poultice. " _Uaireanta is leathcheann iontach tú_ , you are knowing this, yes?"

"No. I just started learning Brigidi, remember?"

"Then I shall be making it easy." Petra leaned in close behind him, her lips by his ear. " _Uaireanta_ \- sometimes; _tú_ \- you; _is leathcheann iontach_ \- are a great, big idiot."

"Hey! P- Petra!" He tried to turn around.

She wrapped the beginning of a linen bandage around his body, yanking him close. "No, be listening to me—we were not surviving the whole war to be charging off into bandits on our own like _leathcheann amaideach!"_

"B- but I'm your knight now!" Ashe protested.

" _Is cuma liom!_ You are being more than _ridire pearsanta, is tú mo leannán_ and best friend and I will not be having you _bás a fháil ó amaideacht!"_ Her hands moved around him like a tempest, making sure each wrap of the bandage was tight. The words spilling out beside his face were like molten steel, scalding just from proximity.

"I... What? Petra, I can't understand you!"

"And I cannot be either!" She huffed out a breath. " _Cén fáth_? Why? Are you not trusting me? I am _chomh maith mar ghaiscíoch is atá tú—_ I can be fighting! We are _comhpháirtithe,_ Ashe!"

"Y- yeah, well- look, I know-"

"Be knowing better!" Petra furiously tied his bandage off. Still, she remained close behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest so he couldn't escape. " _Níor mhaith liom é seo a dhéanamh arís! Táimid ag troid le fada an lá!"_ She hugged him tight, punctuating her next words. " _Má fhaigheann tú bás sula sroicheann muid Brígid, gheobhaidh mé tú agus ní ligfidh mé do scíth go deo!_ "

"Uh... okay?" Ashe sighed. "I'm... I'm sorry."

" _Go maith! Ach ní leor sin, caithfidh tú gealladh_ -" She caught herself, exhaling hard through her nose, slumping a little. Her words still came out harsh, bet Petra could feel her anger dimming. "I am meaning, do not ever, ever be doing this again! _Riamh arís._ Be promising this to me, Ashe."

"But what- what if I have to go deal with bandits in the future?"

"I am not meaning that! _Táim ag caint faoi_ you being reckless and not looking for the help of others! _Ridire pearsanta nó nach bhfuil,_ you were attending the academy with me, you should be knowing this."

Ashe went silent.

The wind whipped over the hills, ever-present on this strip of land within old Nuvelle territory. Not far away, ships were docked, ready to take them home to Brigid, finally released from the Empire's service. They had been so close, and then one chance encounter with highwaymen almost doomed him. Them both, really.

"I... I am not wanting to be treating you with rudeness. But I was being... scared, Ashe. _Bhí an-eagla orm._ You are meaning much to me." Petra slumped against his back, loosening her embrace. Her chin rested on his shoulder. "Please, be promising me... that you will not be having recklessness. You are not needing to be proving yourself."

Ashe turned his head towards her. "Right. Yeah, you're right—sorry, Petra. I promise I'll be smarter in the future." His voice wavered. "I just... they pointed at you first, and I got so afraid and angry I just couldn't... I had to stop them. I wasn't thinking, I know, but..."

Petra nodded, turning as well to place a kiss along his temple. Her hand moved up to run through his hair, soothing whatever storm of emotions he dredged up. "I am knowing, _mo grá."_

She held him for a while longer, letting both of their heated emotions fizzle out into the dying sunlight. They could almost see the ocean on the horizon, a faint glimmer of blue-ish silver where the hills ended. Brigid, their new life, was still waiting. Ashe gave a shiver.

"Are you being cold?"

"Ah... maybe a little."

"This is surprising! It is usually me who is the first to be noticing."

"Y- yeah, well, I'm not wearing much anymore."

Petra hummed. After a moment, she gave a whistle. "Ruílacha is having a cloak and vulneraries in her bags. Come, let us be finding your wyvern and then we can be making camp for the night."

"All right." Ashe shifted so her could look her in the eyes. " _Mo ghrá thú._ "

The words were stilted and accented in all the wrong areas, but she understood regardless. He had been muttering it over and over, late at night when he thought she was asleep. It wasn't the first time he'd told her either, but all the others were in his native tongue, not hers.

" _Mo ghrá thú freisin._ "


	4. Fódlan Treats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a wip i wasn't a huge fan of, but... whatever, I polished it off with writing a drabble-sized amount tonight, so it counts!

A knock rang on Ashe's door. He looked up from his book, a thin one that detailed the exploits of Sir Dendron, a Dagdan myth. It was light and silly, but for today, that was precisely what he wanted. The day's lectures were over, and his muscles were still aching from training—the yearly display at Gronder Field was just around the corner. All he desired now was to sip his tea and submerge into some cozy reading until dinner.

With a sigh, Ashe put the tome down on his bed and got up, shuffling to the door. He took a moment to force a positive face, then opened up.

"Happy day of birth!" came Petra's enthused cheer, with all the wonderful trimmings. She wore a wide smile, her adorable braid bouncing as she rose on her toes. A small cake was on a platter in her hands. "I am bringing Fódlan treats."

Ashe didn't have to fake his happiness anymore. He'd been lightly miffed that nobody had said something all day, but the Brigid girl always knew how to raise his spirits. A warm glow rose in his chest as he pressed his hands together. "Petra! You remembered—this is so kind of you."

She nodded. "I will always be remembering. May I come in?"

"Oh, sure! Just... ignore the mess."

Petra stepped inside his room, placing the cake down on his desk. She looked around, skimming over the unmade bed and the shameful pile of training equipment he'd dumped in a corner when he got home. "This is being messy? I am thinking you have not seen Dorothea's room after a bad date."

Ashe breathed a laugh, closing the door behind him. "True, that sounds... well, I'd rather not think about it. Still, I figured I could cut loose today."

"Cut... loose?" Petra tilted her head, arms crossed. "From what?"

He chuckled, waving the idea away. "It's just a saying—to relax." Crossing the room, Ashe sat down on the edge of his mattress. "With everyone training so hard for the mock battle, I figure a day to drink tea and read books would be good for me."

Petra's smile faltered. "Is that your desire? I am not wanting to be a burden."

"B- burden?" Ashe clucked his tongue. "Not at all! I really appreciate this, Petra." He paused, searching for the right words, his cheeks growing warm. "It'd make me, ah... really happy to have your company for a while."

Petra's expression rose again like a phoenix, her cheeks pushing high up her face. "This is giving me happiness as well- oh! I was forgetting!" She excitedly tip-tapped across the floor, dropping onto the bed beside him. Her hands fished through a satchel on her hip. "It is a custom of Fódlan to be giving gifts, correct?"

"Well, yes-" The gears clicked in his head. "But honestly, you don't have to give me anything more! The cake is wonderful all on its own."

Petra shook her head. "I am having two gifts for you." She took something out, covering it up in her hands. Turning to face him, she placed it in his own, still obscuring the item from his view. "The first one—it is of my own making."

As her hands pulled away, Ashe looked at the object he held. It was a diamond-shaped piece of leather with a loop of bright green thread coming from the top, altogether not much larger than his palm. Along the edges were many tiny, finely-woven tassels, ordered in a gradient of green, blue, and purple, like the last wisps of dusk. In the center, crafted in the same bright green thread, was an embroidered feather.

"Mostly," Petra added quietly. "Bernie gave help."

Ashe scarcely heard that part, looking his gift over in awe. The craftsmanship was, like all things related to her, breathtaking. He could feel the care that she had molded and poured over it, even as small as it was. Each stitch was deliberate, a conscious thought; the treated hide was remarkably soft under his fingertips. "This is gorgeous, Petra. Although... what is it?"

She scooted closer. "It is a charm, asking for swiftness." She pressed the tip of her finger over the feather. "Be hanging it from your clothing, and the spirits will be helping you move quickly. I am remembering your words about being afraid to dance—this can keep you from stepping on others."

He looked back up to her, his chest about to burst like jostled champagne. The amount of time she had to have spent on this, well, he'd rather not dwell on it. Ashe held it close, as if it were a precious, fragile thing—despite its sturdy feel. "Wow... this is almost too much, Petra. Thank you." He kept switching from studying the charm and its maker. "R-really, this is... incredible. Please tell me the cake is the second gift, I don't think I can accept another."

Petra's face radiated what he felt in his heart, honey-sweet joy and pride—relief along the corners of her eyes. She opened her mouth to respond, and then after a moment, closed it. Her expression slunk into something playful, her smile winding into a lilted, coy grin. She ultimately shook her head. "I am thinking... it should be the third. Yes, we should be enjoying the treat last."

Ashe stared at her, trying to pierce into the heart of her scheme. He could feel goosebumps flying down his back. "W- what do you mean? Why last?"

Petra giggled. "I am not wanting you to taste like cake," she said, sliding closer along the blankets.

Oh. _Oh_. He was no Luna Knight, but even he could figure that out. Ashe let loose a choked laugh, still coming to terms with the new side of their relationship. It was only a few weeks old—hardly anyone else knew.

"S-sure! That's fine with me- very fine." Petra's grin stretched wider as he kept blathering. "I take that back, two gifts are great, I can definitely-"

Petra put one finger over his lips, the other grabbing the collar of his shirt. "Ashe," she whispered to him, "if you are speaking less, you can be receiving it sooner."

Ashe could only nod as they fell back onto his bed, Petra overtaking his senses.

\--

Ingrid punched Felix in the shoulder. "Because it's his birthday, you inconsiderate ass."

"It's too early," he grumbled back. "Let's just find him at dinner."

"No." Ingrid shifted the box in her arms as they walked. "He's our friend—I didn't see you complaining when we did this for Annette."

"Huh?" the redhead called out from the back of their mini parade down the courtyards. "Did someone say my name?"

"No," Felix replied, too quickly. "And you—I'll hit you if you say anything."

"What?" Sylvain raised his hands, a cocky smirk tilting his face. "I wasn't going to say _anything_. Just relax, will you? Gestures like this are easy points—quick, no drama, everyone's happy. You can suck it up for like, five minutes."

"I cannot believe it, but... I am agreeing with Sylvain, for once," Dimitri chimed in. "After the past few months he's had, Ashe certainly deserves some happiness tonight. It's a small sacrifice to make a kind memory for him."

Ingrid gave off a small _hmph_ of triumph, pleased to have two of the boys on her side for once. Truth be told, she wasn't sure the prince would come along, but he'd been true to his word. With the mock battle at Gronder Field looming on the horizon, it was a welcome surprise to get the house together for something other than training. The Professor was at the rear, and like always, carried a thoughtful bundle of flowers in her arms. A small, rare smile ghosted her lips as she observed her flock.

Well, their newest house member was missing, but Ingrid supposed Petra was still getting used to everyone.

Ingrid turned around, shushing everyone as they grew close. This was their moment, the silly tradition they'd started for Annette and Mercedes at the start—people who suggested and appreciated these things. Sylvain laughed and went along with it too for his birthday. So, as they silently approached Ashe's door, she was sure he'd be delighted as well.

Annette had the idea for making it a surprise this time.

Sylvain counted down on his fingers, the whole group bunching together. At two, Ingrid knocked on his door. At zero, she turned the handle and walked inside.

"Happy birthday to you!" The group song began. As Ingrid turned, not three steps into his room, her singing died in her throat.

Petra frozen on top of Ashe, eyes wide, lips locked-

Oh no. _No no no no no._

Ingrid turned and tried to flee, but the wave of oncoming bodies was too much. Time slowed down. She watched as Felix's grumbling went still, now smirking. Sylvain did a double take, then jumped and threw his arms in the air. Dimitri, choking as his eyes went wide, turned away and hid his face with a hand. Dedue and Annette had just gotten through the door frame.

"Out!" Ingrid yelled. "N- nevermind!"

All at once the scene imploded. Ashe shrieked. Petra rolled over, cocooning within his blankets and yelling something in her native tongue. Felix started laughing as Sylvain screamed a million things at once. Annette burst into giggles.

Her face hotter than the sun, her body trembling, Ingrid started forcing the Blue Lions house out of Ashe's room. "We- um, we'll see you tomorrow! Have a great night, you two!"

Sylvain and Felix snorted, just barely letting her push them along.

Her breath seized in her throat. "Wait- I didn't mean- oh _goddess_! I'm so sorry! J- just forget I said anything!" Ingrid groaned. "For the love of- move it, everyone!"

"What happened?" Mercedes asked, further out into the courtyard.

"Is Ashe okay?" Byleth echoed.

Ingrid gave a quick, apologetic look at the original inhabitants. Ashe had his face buried in his hands. Petra had become a bundle of blankets along the wall, just her braid sticking out. They were completely, utterly still, frozen in embarrassment like corpses.

Yes, she owed them both a very, very long apology tomorrow.

Never had she been so relieved to close a door.

\--

"Way to go, Ashe!" came Sylvain's muffled shouting, yet again, through the walls. "I'm proud of you, buddy!"

"Shut the hell up, Sylvain!" Ingrid retorted, her voice trembling. "Just give them some peace already, will you?"

"I'm happy for him too!" Annette piped in.

Mercedes chuckled. "Still, I hope Petra's okay... poor dear."

"That's... enough for today, everyone," Byleth called out, finishing with an awkward cough. "Now get going, and don't forget your reading for tomorrow on Sancian maneuvers. I'll see you all then."

A broken chorus of you too's and goodbyes called back to her, thankfully growing quieter as they all started walking away. Still, the excited murmuring never seemed to fully leave, always playing in the background noise of Ashe's bedroom.

It was somewhere between minutes or years before either of them moved. For Ashe, it was taking his hands off his face. For Petra, it was one terribly long, long sigh. It ended bitter and defeated, finishing as a groan in her chest. She rolled over, bumping up against him. Her face against his shoulder and she slumped into it.

"I..." That was as far as Ashe got. He knew no other words, at least none to describe quite what had just happened.

"Can I be switching houses again?" Petra asked weakly.

Ashe turned his head to look at her better. Despite it all, It was terribly cute, seeing her bundled up like this. "Take me with you. _Please_."

She nodded, her nose tracing lines in his arm, her eyes still held shut. "I am hoping Claude's class is more respecting of privacy."

He paused, unsure if she was serious or not. Hardly six months into their time here at Garreg Mach, and the shenanigans of the Golden Deer were already bordering on legendary. Hanneman's charred eyebrows were just the most recent saga.

Petra shifted, turning to look up at him. Despite her still hot cheeks, she smiled. "I was having a joke, Ashe."

He let out a breath, finishing it with a shaky laugh. "Oh! Right, of course."

The embarrassment refused to die in his chest. Pondering it for a moment, he guessed most of it was for her, not himself. Leaning in, Ashe debilitated for a moment, then kissed her forehead. She hummed appreciatively.

"I am so, so sorry about that. We've always told the birthday person beforehand, so when nobody asked, I figured everyone was too busy. If I knew, well..."

Petra pressed in close again, still not bothering to extract her arms from her cocoon. "Do not be worrying, you were not the one having mistakes. It is not-"

Another knock at the door. The two of them froze, locking eyes. Nobody burst in and started singing, so that was an easy bar to clear. "Who is it?" Ashe called out.

"It's professor Byleth—sorry, I can leave your flowers at the door if you're uncomfortable."

He glanced over to Petra and sighed. She gave him a puzzled look and shrugged. Ashe begrudgingly left the safety of his bed, trudging over to the door. Petra shook out of her blanket and sat against the wall.

"Uh, n- no, that's all right. Here, one second."

He opened the door to find the professor with, as always, a bundle of flowers—a small bouquet of violets, his favorite. The edges of her lips twitched upwards as she saw him, the look in her eyes both awkward and amused.

"Here. I would hate to have them get dirty on the ground."

"Oh, wow, thank you!" Ashe's tone came out flat as he took them, despite how hard he tried to act excited. "S- sorry! That sounded sarcastic, didn't it?"

If she was offended, she didn't show it. Byleth merely shrugged, scrunching her face up with sympathy. "Just a bit. I understand, though." She leaned to the side, peering into his room, and then gave a tiny wave. "Hello, Petra."

"Ah... Hello, P-professor." Petra dipped her head in an embarrassed nod.

"Are you both doing okay?" Byleth asked, even but soft. She was shifting her weight from foot to foot, looking between the two of them. "I want to apologize for not recognizing how... ah, _dangerous_ their new plan could be."

Ashe let out an exhale, moving the bouquet in his arms so he could rub the back of his head. "I... I think we're fine." He spared a moment to look back at Petra. Despite her beet-red face, she held their gaze and shrugged. "Or we will be, eventually."

The professor let her smile show openly for once. "Good. Now, I will have to report you to Seteth for violating dorm policy."

"Wait, what?"

"Pr- professor?"

The bouquet lurched, nearly tumbling from his hands. His bed creaked as Petra sat up straight. Light from the setting sun fell around Byleth, giving her a golden aura that felt like cosmic irony.

Byleth chuckled, so deep in her chest it could've been humming. Her smile grew. "Just kidding. Your secret is safe with me. Happy Birthday, Ashe."

With that, she turned on a heel and walked off, the halo following her like fate.

Ashe blinked, rooted to the hardwood floor like he were an oak. One breath, then a second. All he wanted to do was read his books.

"A- Ashe?"

The last of his weary soul splashed to the earth with a sigh. Ashe closed the door, locking it. The flowers were tossed haphazardly to his desk, its burts of petals on the room being romantic any other evening. He trudged to the bed and dropped onto it.

Petra's hands rubbed his back. Silence hung heavy in the air, neither sure what to do, too exhausted to give a damn.

She kissed the top of his head. Her words came out with a wince: "Would eating the cake be helping?"

He shook his head into the blankets. "Somehow I'm not hungry."

"Then what can I be doing? What are you wanting?"

"I just... _goddess_ , I just want to sleep and pretend this never happened."

She hummed, her calming touches fading away. Leaving the bed, her footsteps crossed the room, rummaged about, then returned. A new layer of softness enveloped him, body heat joining as she slid in beside him.

"Then rest. I can be getting us dinner when it is time."

He replied with a nestle into the crook of her shoulder. Now they were _definitely_ breaking some rules. To hell with them.

Petra hooked the charm around one of the buttons in his shirt. "Be finding peace with swiftness, _mo stór._ "


	5. Gautier Lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've literally never had the gall (or liver) to use a pickup line in my life, so please be kind

"So… are you sure you don't mind? I still feel bad."

Ingrid paused, mid-demolition of her dinner. She shook her head and shrugged until she finished her mouthful. "Of course not, Ashe. You certainly need to put your education first—if you think you'll learn more under another teacher, then that's what you should do. You're still our friend."

"R-really? Well, thanks, Ingrid." Ashe smiled lightly to himself, continuing to pick at his plate. He was too excited, honestly, the nostalgic energy coursing through his bones. He hadn't sat for dinner with his old classmates in months.

Felix just grunted. In all honesty, that he was acknowledging him was a victory in its own right. Mercedes and Annette chattered further down the table. The crown prince and his retainer were absent, though Ashe was silently comforted by this: most royalty made him nervous.

He could almost pretend he had never left the Blue Lions.

"Yeah, I don't blame you one bit!" Sylvain said, nudging Ashe with an elbow. "Lots of beautiful ladies over there."

"Wh- what?" Ashe said, shying away.

Ingrid sighed. "Just when I thought he'd play nice…"

"Hey! It's only an observation, that's all. Right?" Sylvain looked around the table for support. "Come on, Felix? You have two eyes, even you can-"

"Shut up."

"Jeez, fine." The Gautier boy ran a hand through his hair. "Anyway, Ashe-"

"Y- yes?"

"You know what I mean, yeah? Who's your type?"

Ingrid's fork clattered on her plate. "You don't have to answer him."

"Dorothea's gorgeous, right?" Sylvain continued on, undeterred by her glare. "She can sing and dance, too. That's a triple threat."

Annette's head turned on a dime, torn from her conversation. "What? No, that's not right! Triple threats can sing, dance, and _act_."

"Fine then, a quadruple threat. And speaking of threatening, your new house leader is pretty easy on the eyes-"

"Sylvain, stop." Ingrid waved her hands in front of his face. "The creepy guy that follows her around will probably kill you if you keep talking about her."

A chuckle slipped from Ashe's mouth. "Hubert's not _that_ bad. He… he wouldn't do that."

"No, he would," Felix muttered.

Sylvain waved them away. His eyes were lit up, his movements quicker than usual. It seemed, for him (and they all should've known by now), that talking _about_ women was just as enticing as talking to them. Ashe resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Okay, whatever. How about the one who's always locking herself away? It's a shame, honestly—she's cute and I figure you two would get along well."

Heat was prickling up the back of Ashe's neck. This line of question was starting to make him nervous "You mean Bernadetta? Sylvain, honestly, you don't need to-"

"Wait, what about the foreign girl? Petra, right?"

Chills sunk to his gut; but it was okay, he could suffer through this and play dumb. Ashe cocked his head. "Her?"

"Yeah! Maybe a little _cultural exchange_ would be good, huh?" Sylvain winked. The heat on Ashe's neck spread to his face. Thankfully, the noble's eyes shifted away.

"Look, she's right over there. Come on, don't tell me-"

" _Syl_ -vain. For the love of the goddess..." Ingrid crossed her arms. "Give him a break."

Ashe still felt the pull of curiosity, turning his head. Petra sat at a table with Ferdinand and Linhardt, a cheerful Dorothea arriving beside them with her own plate.

The Blue Lions melted into the periphery. As much as he hated to admit it, his gaze was caught on the Brigid student. Confidence, honesty, and a touch of wonder—all traits of hers that brought him in like a fly to honey.

And well, sure... he _supposed_ she was more than pretty. Beautiful, even, with those amethyst eyes that gleamed at every new word, every dumb joke, and every difficult task. It was still difficult to voice those feelings, to lean into the crush that had been growing for weeks.

Petra turned, as if she felt the attention. Catching Ashe's gaze, she smiled and waved. Ashe waved back, a pulse of embarrassment pulling at his chest.

And then he swung his head around, to the knowing, amused looks of many. Even Felix had the corners of his lips twitching into a grin. Annette giggled and Mercedes smiled. Sylvain waggled his eyebrows at him. The goddess could take him now, then.

"W- what?" Ashe sputtered. "I was just waving hello."

"Sylvain talked to you for like five seconds, Ashe," Annette said.

"Ah- no. I'm sure I would've heard him."

Sylvain laughed. "Oh yeah? What was the last thing I asked?"

Ashe opened his mouth. Not even the barest threads of a lie came out. He shut his jaw tight and looked to Ingrid for support, a way out.

She just shrugged, her expression caught like a deer in the torchlight. "Uhh... I- I mean, you were obviously very... busy... thinking about, ah..."

"I think it's sweet," Mercedes said with a smile, tilting her head at Ashe. "She seems to like you, at least. Why not go talk to her?"

"We- we already talk. At class and-"

"At class? Come on, look-" Sylvain leaned forward on his elbows. "Do you want to get to closer to her or not? I can tell you exactly what to say."

A chorus of sighs and groans resonated around the table.

"Ashe, don't," Annette pleaded.

"I can kick him."

"Here we go," Felix grumbled.

And yet the idea tempted Ashe like a ruby berries dangling from a yew bush. Truth be told, he had been trying and failing to find a reason to be around Petra more often—and Sylvain _was_ much more experienced in these things.

Even as he though it, a part of his brain recoiled, completely aware of the dangers involved. Sylvain's reputation was not something he wanted to emulate. A larger voice smothered those concerns; the allure of _'it can't be too bad'_ hot in his mind. There must be some method behind his madness.

"O-okay, sure. I'm listening."

\--

The first few steps were daunting; the rest, terrifying.

It was his classmates, Ashe tried to remind himself. He saw them every day for lectures, there should be no problem approaching them outside of then and training.

And yet, the exasperated glances from his old housemates draped heavy over his shoulders. Worse yet, the lines he repeated over and over in his mind were growing more ridiculous by the second.

Was it too late to turn back around?

Linhardt looked up at him, smiling lightly. Yes, too late. He sucked in a breath and marched on.

"Good evening, Ashe. Care to join us? You just missed our energetic friend."

Dorothea and Petra turned; one regarding him with a practiced smirk and the other brightening like the morning sun.

"Hello, dear."

"Greetings, Ashe!"

"Ah- uh... hi, everyone." He arrived on his tip-toes, at the head of the table. It still felt like they towered over him.

Dorothea gave him a look. "Are you feeling okay? You look exhausted—why not sit with us for a moment?"

"Oh, well, no... that's okay. I- I was actually going to go for a walk, and, um-"

His heart thundered in his chest. The roar of blood in his ears was deafening. Chills sunk their nails in his soul and scraped down.

"You will be walking? It is late," Petra pointed out. "Unless you are wanting to look at the stars?"

"Why bother?" Linhardt countered. "Sleep is important, after all."

Dorothea tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. She could smell fear and the anxiety of bad flirts, he was convinced. Petra had become something akin to a sister to her, and being older, perhaps she guarded her like he had done with his own siblings.

But Ashe could also feel the stare of a five Blue Lions on his back. He already had one foot in the water, and the shore was slipping. It'd be less painful to just jump in.

"Yep, heh, the stars," Ashe continued with a nod. Dorothea gaze turned cold. A long breath. "Yes, I'm gonna go for a walk."

Time slowed as he turned faintly to Petra, offering out a bare hand. "Would you mind holding this for me?"

A faint noise came from the back of Dorothea's throat, something between a scoff and a laugh. Her mouth hung open wide, taken aback.

Linhardt slumped and rolled his eyes.

Petra stared at his palm, her head lifting curiously. "I am not understanding. There is nothing. What item am I meant to be holding?"

Ashe's mind froze. He turned his hand over, trying to paint a simple picture.

"That man-child made you do this, didn't he?" Dorothea asked, her words scraping over the table. Her eyes lit up, flashing across the dining hall. "Where is he?"

"It's rather harmless, if you ask me," Linhardt said.

Dorothea half-rose from her chair. "If these two were his first victim, sure, it'd be cute. _Charming,_ even _._ But no, this whole attitude of his has gone on for far too long. It's about respect, Lin." Then she stiffened.

A gaggle of voices arose in the distance, terrified and giggling.

"Hello, dear!" Dorothea projected her words far across the hall. "Yes, you—let's have a little chat, shall we? Your friends will want to hear this, too."

She stormed away, her heels hitting the masonry like thunderclaps.

"I am- what is happening?" Petra looked around, terribly confused. "Someone, please be explaining this to me."

Linhardt grabbed his books and stood up. "I'd rather not."

And then, the cascade of horror unrelenting, it was just the two of them. Petra's eyes pleaded with him, forgetting his outstretched hand. He... was really going to have to explain this, the one thing Sylvain told him not to do.

Well, the sounds of his thrashing from Dorothea made Ashe feel better.

"Ah, well... oh goddess."

"Ashe, please," Petra said with a growing smile, "do not be having nervousness around me. I am being curious, that is all."

"Right." He took a breath and nodded to himself. "Right, well, here goes. I am asking if you'd like to, uh, walk with me for a while. It's nice out this evening and-"

"Oh!" Her smile grew. "I am understanding this- except, the final part is giving me confusion. Are you forgetting what you are needing me to hold?"

"N-no, Petra-" he sighed. "It _is_ my hand. I mean, of course you don't have to—a- and I'd be more than happy to just walk, but..."

Understanding dawned on her face. It came in little scrunches of skin on her cheeks, her eyebrows rising, her eyes flashing wider. Spots of color tinted her skin.

Bright peals of laughter rang out. "Ah, I am seeing, now. That is very clever, Ashe." She stood from her seat, taking his hand. "Where are you wanting to be going? I am thinking Dorothea is busy, she will not be minding."

He had to look away, to keep himself grounded and not float away in the sensation? It... worked?

It also had exacted a toll. Sylvain was sinking into floor, caving under Dorothea's righteous words.

"Ah, well, why don't we just wander for a bit?" He let himself turn back to her, allowing his heart to flutter a bit. "I think they'll be here for a while."


	6. A Particular Moment

Petra awoke to the soft afternoon rays dappling through summer-green leaves. Perched in the crook of a bough on her favorite tree, this spot had become a safe harbor when the war councils and strategy meetings grew too intense. While relaxation was never her strong suit, somehow a nap came easier here in the orchards, far away from the monastery’s bustle.

Somewhere, Rúilacha, her wyvern, would be slumbering in the grass. She looked down, expecting to see the snoozing, scaly mass. Instead, there was a young man, nose deep in a book. By his silver hair and slight frame, Petra had a very good idea who this might be.

Then why would he read all the way out here? Ashe famously devoured tomes on the benches outside the dining hall, so static a presence that every officer knew to look for him there. While she entertained the idea that this was some sort of surprise, she also threw that out quickly—hardly anyone besides Dorothea knew about this spot. No, there had to be another reason, so Petra stayed quiet and observed him.

At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Just the same adorable, bookworm-ish focus, with the tip of his nose scrunched up and fingers twirling through his hair. She was content, then, to stay quiet and not disturb him, maybe figuring out a silent way to hop down.

Then Ashe looked up from his book, warily checking his surroundings. He turned a page, with a shake in his breath, and continued reading.

Never mind. Petra’s curiosity had sunk its teeth in deep, unable to ignore just what was making him anxious. Stealthily as she could, she rose from her position and began to slink lower down the tree. Practiced footsteps got her onto the lowest limb, enough to kneel down and peer at the exposed parchment.

Her eyes were sharp enough to begin making out the words on the page. A name stuck out first, ones she had heard of before when they talked. The Luna Knight. Yes, he had mentioned that one to her a few times. Petra gripped the bough and leaned forward, enough to bring it all into focus.

There were many long, flowery sentences, convoluted and full of terms she couldn’t understand. But the gist was simple enough; with words like “love” and “passion” being tossed around so often, it was some sort of romance story. She grinned, amused and surprised, unsure whether to disturb him or not. There was no shame in reading tales about love, at least not in her mind. While it was the adventurous stories that kept her afloat during the dark days in Enbarr, the romances she read were just as enjoyable.

Though as she kept descending down the page, her amusement turned to greater confusion. The writing grew increasingly conceptual and airy, attributing words like “heat” and “core” and “member” in ways she wasn’t aware they could be. The scene described was beginning to make sense, with mentions of hands and skin and breaths, which was not unusual for the romantic moments she’d read herself. But there was an unusual intensity to it, starting a faint suspicion that this was no ordinary love story.

Just as she felt as if she was on the edge of understanding, he turned the page.

Reflexively, Petra let out a small, frustrated huff.

The book closed shut with a resounding _snap_ of parchment and leather. Ashe’s head whirled, trying to locate the source, until he shifted and looked up into the tree. He screamed.

“Be having my apologies!” Petra said as she dropped down to the earth.

Ashe was on his feet quicker than she’d seen him move, hiding the book behind his back. His eyes were wide, jaw locked tight, breathing heavily through his nose. His cheeks were already turning red.

“I am not meaning to be scaring you,” Petra began, “I was resting in this tree and was finding you here. I was having hope to leave quietly, so you would not be disturbed.”

Ashe opened his mouth, then shut it. A mixture of panic and embarrassment was plain on his face, even in his stance as he shifted from side to side. He rubbed his face, sighing loudly. “G- goddess… you gave me quite the fright.”

“Apologies again,” Petra said with a bow. “My curiosity was causing problems. I will be leaving so you can continue reading—but if I can be telling you, the stories of the heart should not be read in shame. There is no needing to be hiding out here.”

The color drained from Ashe’s face. Every muscles seized up tight, drawing in one last, wispy breath.

“Ashe? Are you having an illness?”

“Petra…” his words came out slow and quiet, like he could hardly will them out. “How much did you read over my shoulder?”

“Hmm?” She tilted her head. “I was only seeing the last page.”

Ashe groaned. “Of course you did. The worst one, just my luck. Surely you can understand why—oh goddess, we really don’t have to talk this out, do we?”

“I am… not having understanding. The words were giving me some confusion, but it is a romance story, yes? That much I was knowing.”

“Well, yes, it is, but-“ Ashe paused, debating over his words.

“But?”

Ashe stopped entirely, making eye contact with her, and slowly began to shake his head. His face was turning redder than a tomato, the color creeping down his neck. “N- no, I can’t do this. I’m sorry, Petra, but I need to go.”

He turned and picked a direction, walking towards the outer walls. Petra started, then began trailing after him.

“What? Ashe, please be telling me what is wrong! I am not meaning to offend you! If you are having anger over my interruption, say it. I will be understanding if that is the problem!”

“N- no, of course not!” He continued marching through the trees, his book pressed close to his chest. “That’s not- this isn’t just a normal romance, Petra!” Then, quieter, “It’s _embarrassing_.”

“Oh?” Petra paused in her tracks, absorbing his words. Then she picked up after him, walking quickly. “Wait! Please, let me be apologizing then!”

“Y- you don’t have to, it’s fine! Really!”

“You are not sounding fine! The walls are ahead, Ashe—please be stopping!” She caught up to him as the masonry peeked through the rows of trees. “I am not wanting you to be angry, your friendship has importance to me!”

Ashe sighed, long and loud, coming to a halt with his shoulders slumped. He turned slowly to her, eyes still cast to the ground.

“Th- thank you,” Petra said, partially put off by his demure stance. “Please, be telling me your problems. I am not wanting there to be any troubles between us.”

Ashe looked up, his mouth open wide. “There’s not- goddess, no, I’m not mad at you. Like I said, it’s _embarrassing_ ,” he whined. He opened up his arms, gesturing at the tome. “This is embarrassing.”

Petra frowned. “The story? I was saying before that-“

“It’s not just a-“ Ashe cut himself off with a sigh. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. Petra remained silent, now confused rather than worried. Eventually, Ashe opened his book up and began flicking through the pages. He skimmed a few lines, then with a gulp, handed it over.

“Goddess, just read it then. And don’t look at me or tease me or-“

“Ashe, I am understanding,” Petra said softly, taking the opened tome in her hands. “I will not be having fun at you.”

He shrugged, backing away, focused on the ground.

Petra looked back to the parchment, the reading much easier this time. Yes, it was much the same as she remembered—airy and convoluted, full of odd phrases she knew, just not in these contexts. The edge of understanding came just like it did before, and as she neared the end of the page, she found some much more _explicit_ words she did know.

“Ah…” she mused aloud, a tinge of warmth settling on her cheeks. “This is a story of… intimate moments.”

“It’s not-“ came Ashe’s strangled response, “it’s just the one in here, okay? The _only_ one, I swear. I skimmed over it at lunch and figured I couldn’t read it with people around, so…”

Petra closed the book. “Yes, that is… I am understanding now.”

Ashe sighed, finally picking his head up. “So, yeah, now you know it all I guess. Please don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Your secret is having safety with me.”

He nodded, seemingly accepting her sincerity. “Thank you.” A small, relieved smile popped up on his lips.

Petra found herself smiling back, though as she looked down at the book in her arms, a small burst of incredulity rose in her chest. Without a second thought, a burst of giggles escaped her mouth.

Ashe’s grin died. “Hey! You said-“

“M- my apologies!” Her giggles grew, turning into full laughs around her words. “I am not having fun at you! Spirits, I was chasing you through the orchards over this, was I not?”

“Oh! Ah, well… yes, I suppose you did.” Eventually he too succumbed to the mood, unable to fight off her bright peals of laughter. “That was pretty ridiculous, wasn’t it?”

She nodded, taking long, deep breaths in the aftermath. Fits of giggles still escaped here and there, eventually pulling in Ashe’s chuckling with them. With a smile, she looked to him and handed the book back.

“Are you sure I can be telling nobody?” she asked. “I am knowing Dorothea is enjoying these, maybe you two can be giving recommendations?”

“H- hey! It’s not like I read this stuff all the time!” Still, the smile on his face refused to go away. “It’s just part of this _particular_ story, okay? It’s a tender moment between two people in love.”

She hummed in response, trying not to laugh again. Though, judging by his reaction, her amusement was still plain on her face. “The moment was not seeming that way to me—pulling hair is not tender.”

“P- Petra!”

Her laughter spilled out again, so she turned around and started to depart.

“My apologies, Ashe! I will be letting you enjoy your story in peace.”

Ashe groaned, shaking his head and falling to the earth. He sat in stunned silence for a moment, watching her go out of the corner of his eye. After she disappeared from sight, he took a long breath and chuckled to himself, mostly out of disbelief.

It’d be a terrible idea to tell her a similar moment happened in the story he was reading, right?

He shook his head, clearing away his daydreams, and stole a last glance around. Then he opened the pages once more.


	7. Mid-morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something quick and super fluffy (no plot) to help stave off this trainwreck of a day
> 
> slightly off-canon, too lazy to fix

"Thanks for the help, Petra," Leonie said as they came to her door. "You really didn't have to—the professor gave us the day off with all the negotiations coming up."

Petra set the stack of boxes down, in front of a row of townhouses that had been commandeered from the previous Imperial captains of Enbarr. They served the Alliance army well, just a week after their victory with still a litany of fires to put out. Spacious and well-adorned, they beat sleeping in a tent.

"The professor was giving us a rest?" she asked. "When was this being told to us?"

"Hmm? Last night." Leonie tilted her head. "Didn't Ashe tell you? He said he would."

Petra pursed her lips together. The moments passed by quietly.

"Okay, well, I should get these inside." Leonie chuckled awkwardly. She picked up her boxes and started bringing them inside. "But thanks again! Let me know if you want to train together tomorrow!"

The Brigid princess shook herself, remembering her manners. "Yes, I will be looking forward to more sparring! Be enjoying your day, Leonie!"

"You too!"

The door shut, leaving her alone on a private road in the royal district of Enbarr. Luckily, her own townhouse was yards away, and she wouldn't have to wait long for an answer.

\--

Petra climbed the last step and pushed through the door into the bedroom. Mid-morning sunlight dappled in through a wide window, casting across hardwood floors and sky-blue walls. In the center was a wide, down-stuffed bed, layered with fine sheets and blankets and pillows.

Atop it, cocooned into the blankets, was Ashe, still sleeping.

Petra sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. The war was barely over, and exhaustion still pulled at everyone. If he really needed the rest, she would let him. Whatever meeting went on yesterday had gone well into the night—the moon had begun its descent when he finally stumbled back inside.

She leaned over and watched his chest rise and fall, the puffs of breath pushing around his bangs. His nose twitched at each tickle of his hair. Her frustration was hard to hold; Petra smiled faintly and tucked the errant strands behind his ear.

Petra hummed to herself, letting her hand touch his shoulder and rub it gently. " _You're lucky you're cute,"_ she mused in her own tongue.

A grumble escaped Ashe's lips. His breathing hitched, his whole body shuddering before turning around to face her. He blinked his eyes open once, groggily looking around and groaning again. Then he tilted his head up, finding Petra, and smiled.

"G'morning you."

"Good morning, _mo stór._ "

Ashe shuffled closer, half-conscious. "But 'is too early. Come back."

He reached out, winding an arm around her waist, and weakly tried to bring Petra beside him. She sighed, more amused than anything. With a roll of her eyes she laid down, sinking back into the plush mattress. Ashe blearily wrapped some of his blankets around her before cuddling in close, resting his head in the crook of her neck.

He exhaled, low and content.

"You are being happy now?" she asked with a grin. Her fingers began to lazily trace up and down his back.

Ashe nodded. He kissed to closest part he could touch, just above her collarbone. "It's our day off," he mumbled.

Petra stayed quiet, instead electing to pay him back and kiss his head. Perhaps he'd figure it out, but in the meantime, this wasn't so terrible a moment. The faint warble of birds came through the window, and the late-summer sun warmed the room to a cozy temperature. And truth be told, this bed was far better than the one at the monastery.

"Is this what you are wanting?" she asked. Petra's knuckles ran softly along his cheek. "To spend your free day resting?"

"With you," he corrected. Ashe snuggled closer. "You smell nice and you're warm. My favorite."

Petra smiled, kissing him again. "Fine. If that is what you are wanting, we can be napping." She settled in, finding a comfortable position. Then, quietly and for her own benefit, she added, "But next time the professor is giving us a free day, please be telling me."

"Oh?" Ashe mumbled. "Okay."

Petra hummed, satisfied enough to close her eyes and bask in the peaceful comfort. It had been far, far too long since she had a moment like this, and she wasn't about to let it pass her by. A long, deep breath escaped her lips.

Time had barely begun to wind by before Ashe tensed up. He tried to rise up from his spot. "W- wait! I- I never... oh Goddess, I'm so sorry, Petra!"

Petra held him down, only opening one eye to look over. She shrugged. "It is fine, I am not angry. You returned at a late hour—I am understanding you must have been tired."

Ashe shook his head. "Yes, well, see... ugh. I wasn't late from the meeting."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. When I found out we'd have the day off, I spent a lot of time getting stuff to surprise you with the next morning, but... looks like I overslept."

"You wanted to give me a surprise?" At this Petra did let go, turning to look at him better. "What are you meaning?"

"Well, you know. I found some books you might like, plus tea and fruit tarts and pastries and... yeah. I figured it'd be a nice morning-in." Ashe groaned. "But now, well, there's not much morning left."

Petra reached out, cupping his cheek. Her smile went from ear to ear. "The thinking is very sweet. And the food will not be spoiling—we can be enjoying the surprise later then, yes?"

His spirits rallied, a faint grin forming on his face. "Well, yes, I guess so. Still, I wish I hadn't slept in."

"Hmm. But if you were not still sleeping, we would not be here."

Ashe raised his eyebrows curiously. "But I planned on staying here, so-... oh. Yeah, I guess you're right."

Petra nodded. She leaned in close, placing a soft kiss on his lips, letting it linger as a few seconds slipped by. Eventually they departed, but just so, their bodies growing close again.

"We can be staying in bed, if you are wanting. It was relaxing for me, before." She grinned. "Sleepy Ashe was being very cute."

Ashe sighed. He cuddled against her again, resuming his same spot. He pecked her cheek before settling in. "I hope I still am, I guess."

Petra shuffled, getting comfortable. Her fingertips began to slowly card through his hair, enjoying its light, silky touch. "Of course."

**Author's Note:**

> Updates @ [my twitter](https://twitter.com/cozysoak)


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